


愛的輓歌 (Love's Elegy)

by AeonWing



Series: Smeft [2]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 16:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11878677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonWing/pseuds/AeonWing
Summary: kt Rolster's horrible loss to SKT and it's aftermath for Smeb and Deft





	愛的輓歌 (Love's Elegy)

Hyukkyu hadn’t said a word on the way back to the gaming house. But then again, neither had anyone else, and neither would anyone else. Trying to stay positive, trying to smile for the fans, to feign composure for the camera; everything had taken its toll. The crack had finally ruptured. However hard the staff tried, however hard _they_ tried, the damage was done.

 

The wound was unsalvageable.

 

Kyungho had held on to Hyukkyu’s lifeless hand throughout the car ride, sometimes drawing circles, sometimes gently massaging. _Something_. He remembered how much Hyukkyu liked all those little gestures, all those little touches. Subtle, but sweet.  But this time, he was met with the same response.

 

_Nothingness._

 

The positivity, the vibrancy, the _glory_ that each and every one of them saw just after the height of game 2, all of it coming crashing down to the nadir of their careers in an instant. The car window was blurry. Blurrier than ever. Too blurry this time, to even see the reflection of the boy who stared lifelessly through it, as if observing death from beyond. Kyungho couldn’t help but find some cruel irony in this.

 

He remembered how this went.

He remembered the last time a loss had hit so hard.

 

The script that followed had better results than he had ever hoped for, had ever dreamed of, had ever wanted. But all that was gone. Sapped, stripped away from them like the victory that came so damn close, so _fucking_ close.

 

After what felt like an eternity, their eyes beheld their destination. Once more, Kyungho felt the harsh sting of his boyfriend unhesitatingly untangling their hands, as if freeing himself from captivity. As if the team, the game, _Kyungho_ himself, represented everything that liberty didn’t.

 

It stung. 

It stung like _hell._

 

But he knew what Hyukkyu must have been thinking. Like before, like every other time, it was normal for Hyukkyu to sulk after losses, to shut himself out and want to be left alone. Each and every time, Kyungho would be there to comfort him. Each and every time, he’d be there to kiss the boy’s fears away.

 

Yet this time it felt like something more.

Or perhaps… something _different_.

 

He followed his boyfriend to his room and when Hyukkyu threw himself on the bed and covered his face with a pillow, Kyungho instinctively bit his lip, as if restraining the millions of clichés that were threatening to spill out. Millions upon millions of useless words with no meaning. No meaning other than to appease what simply could not be appeased.

 

_Pathetic._

 

“Hyukkyu–” he finally began, but Hyukkyu had already started speaking.

 

“Just leave,” he muttered, the venom on his tongue harsh and unadulterated. He didn’t remove the pillow from his visage. _Just like before_ , he didn’t give Kyungho the pleasantries of meaningful eye contact. He didn’t allow anything.

 

He didn’t let him in.

 

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Kyungho answered, determined to at least _try_ , to at least find some closure, to stay by his side and console him. Perhaps somewhere deep, somewhere unchartered, he knew that this would be useless. But he tried nonetheless. “Don’t blame yourself.”

 

“Don’t you blame me? Don’t you?”

 

Kyungho didn’t want to answer. He wanted to be honest. He wanted to speak his mind. To analyze the games from a logical perspective. To allocate blame where blame was due. And yet to tell Hyukkyu that regardless of where blame was due, the end result was a team-wide loss.

 

But he couldn’t.

When he didn’t reply, Hyukkyu took the brittle silence as an answer.

As _the_ answer.

 

“Go away, hyung.”

 

Kyungho sighed and instinctively reached for the marksman’s hand, but powerlessness crept in again. There was nothing he could do to comfort Hyukkyu, nothing he could say to balance the scales. He hated this. Hated how Hyukkyu would always shut him out. Hated how this would _always fucking happen_.

But how he felt was irrelevant when actions were futile. And so, he left Hyukkyu to his thoughts, meanwhile allowing himself time to come to terms with the ones that had been crawling, festering for far too long in his head.

Quiet steps led Kyungho to the scrim room. Noticing that no one was there, he finally allowed himself time to collect his thoughts in peace. Slow, steady steps. From his own space, to Pawn’s to Score’s, to Mata’s to finally…

Hyukkyu’s.

And in that instant, the need to cry became overpowering, and the tears that had threated for so long to fall had finally hit. The shields that he spent so much time building up came crumbling down in an instant. Because logic had finally dictated right and wrong for him.

 

Yet in the cruelest way possible.

 

Even if the others hadn’t told him the obvious, he would’ve known that maintaining a healthy inter-team relationship would forever be an uphill battle. He also knew that compromise was a natural, normal part of any relationship. And that willingness to compromise was a hallmark of genuine love. Compromise. Always compromise.

 

But never recompense.

 

Kyungho had felt that their relationship had been strained for a while now. That sometime, somewhere over the course of months, they had grown distant to one another, in spite of the fixed space the gaming house imposed upon them. Because physical proximity would never make up for emotional distance.

Yet despite all that, as much as it had crossed his mind, he never really thought of going through with what he was about to do. The thought of it tore him to pieces then, and tore him to pieces now.

 

Kyungho took quiet steps back to their shared room, and upon finding that the door wasn’t locked, he opened it slightly.

He was greeted with a soft “come in”. First instinct told him to smile, that his boyfriend had calmed down, that he was waiting for him beyond that door. Yet the smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be firm. To leave behind no regrets. But when Hyukkyu smiled at him again, he felt his will falter.

 

He felt his heart threaten to shatter into a million pieces again.

But he held on firm this time.

 

“Sorry…” Hyukkyu began, reaching over to let their hands meet.

 

Kyungho didn’t return the touch. Cold and distant, he let his fingers stay where they were. His gaze was like steel. It must have surprised Hyukkyu. Kyungho was normally the patient, understanding, compromising one. Normally unafraid to return affection.

 

But not this time.

 

When the boy opened his mouth to try to speak, Kyungho was finally ready for him. Finally ready for everything that had to be said. Because there was no going back. There was no salvation for something beyond repair. No use in elongating the life of a terminally afflicted relationship.

 

“I want to break up.”

 

For a split second, he could see the flash of shock across Hyukkyu’s face, followed immediately by confusion and disbelief. He must have thought he heard incorrectly. Yet Kyungho’s gaze didn’t falter as Hyukkyu recollected himself to speak.

 

“Hyung, I…What?”

 

There was that pleading tone. It was so tempting, it almost threatened to tamper with is willpower. Perhaps on any other day, it would have worked. But not now. Not after everything. Not anymore.

 

“Hyukkyu. This isn’t working.”

 

Hyukkyu’s eyes met his boyfriend’s again, only to be met with the same look of confusion and disbelief. The room felt desolate, devoid of warmth, devoid of connection. But the words had finally begun to sink in, and in place of confusion, birthed a deadly chill and something Hyukkyu probably hadn’t been expecting to feel.

 

_Fear._

 

He must not have seen this coming. He must not have conceived a world without Kyungho. But Kyungho had.

 

“No…” Hyukkyu spoke, out of reflex. Kyungho’s gaze was still locked on him, deadly cold, deadly serious. But the situation that had befallen them was hardly the first time. How would Hyukkyu have guessed that it would be their last? “No. Why? Why break up now? I don’t understand!”

Kyungho didn’t answer. He didn’t want to speak anymore. Any more than he had to, any more than he would need to. But like before, his silence was taken as his answer, and Hyukkyu refused to shake off his disbelief and growing discomfort.

Kyungho felt the marksman reach out to him again, warm fingers on icy cold skin, trying to tug at him, to move him closer, to _feel_ some semblance of affection. But when Kyungho refused to budge, he witnessed the disbelief morph into anger.

 

“Say…Say something,” he spoke, somewhere between plead and demand.

 

Kyungho had kept up his composure thus this far. He wasn’t going to break now. Instinct told him to take a step back. Tears had begun to well up in his eyes again, yet he wouldn’t let them dictate his actions. He wouldn’t give them the liberty to change the outcome. This was the end. But when his eyes scanned Hyukkyu’s face, he realized that his tears must have given Hyukkyu some shred of hope. It must have proven to him that somewhere deep inside, this must be hurting Kyungho. That the break-up wasn’t painless, wasn’t on a whim.

 

That Kyungho must still care for him.

 

“I want to break up,” Kyungho spoke again, this time through tears.

 

He stood up, backing away towards the door, never letting Hyukkyu escape his gaze. He was quite confident that he’d be able to physically walk away, that he had full leverage. It hadn’t occurred to him that it should be this difficult to leave.

But nonetheless, it hurt.

 

“Why? Why? At least tell me that,” Hyukkyu insisted, his voice falling to a desperate plea.

 

Kyungho had seen through that one. And he was prepared to answer it.

“Because it’s better off this way. Because this isn’t working. Because I can’t compromise anymore. Because we can’t base our relationship off of winning together.”

 

_Because I have to._

 

Hyukkyu blinked, and Kyungho could see the confusion clouding his vision and reasoning once more. Kyungho’s lips were pressed into a thin line as he levied his steely gaze at the boy. Kyungho was waiting for Hyukkyu to act, to collect his thoughts once more. But even now, he could see that this was futile. Hyukkyu didn’t understand. There was no possibility that the marksman would be able to follow reasoning that in his eyes had no relevance.

 

_So this is it._

 

“Kyungho, please.”

 

_Not this time._

 

Hyukkyu must have wanted to protest, to contradict him, to tell him he was wrong. The emotions that flashed across his face ranged from angry to confused to hurt to sad. But he had no right to say that. No right to talk. After all, Kyungho was right. This relationship was _toxic_. It had caused so much damage. And Kyungho was going to leave.

 

Leave him. Leave _them._

 

 

“I want to break up,” Kyungho said for the third, and final time.

 

And he felt Hyukkyu’s grip on him finally falter, his thin arms finally losing their integrity that he had kept up for so, so long. An uphill battle that wasn’t his place to fight.

 

“I love you,” Hyukkyu whispered, for what felt like would be the last time.

 

The rawness in his tone sent shivers down Kyungho’s spine. He hesitatingly took a step away from Hyukkyu. He wanted to say that he loved Hyukkyu too. Instinct dictated that he say that. But he wouldn’t falter now. Instead, he stood up hastily, unwilling to look at _his_ … at _the_ marksman.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

And that was the last coherent thing that he heard as he left the room. He was alone now. Once more alone with his feelings, once more alone with what he had just done.

 

Kyungho couldn’t even bring himself to pause when he heard the loud clatter of something being thrown against the wall, or perhaps the floor.

 

He couldn’t even bring himself to stop when he heard the gut-wrenching sobs from behind the door.

 

Just walk. Step after step.

 

As tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

 

 

 


End file.
